Monday, January 25, 2010
adventures in parenting continue
I am watching Théa eat blueberries, pears, crackers and applesauce, chattering nonstop as she does. It brings huge joy to my heart, disproportionally to this ordinary - even mundane - act.
On Wednesday night, Théa woke up sick - threw up, and was sick all day Thursday with a fever of 103. That night, however, she turned the corner, rebounded, and woke up at midnight demanding food. Friday, she was fine all day though she didn't eat much, but Saturday morning, she woke up foul with a bad tummy again. By mid-day, she was throwing up again, and by evening, she couldn't keep anything down. In the morning, it was worse. Even a few teaspoons of pedialite came back up. She was very lethargic, unresponsive and so so sad. My sister came by to check on her, and said it was probably time to take her in.
There is something about walking into a hospital that makes everything seem so much worse when in fact it should seem better. It just solidifies the not-OK nature of the situation, I guess. The doctor opted to try an anti-nausea drug and see if that would keep things down enough for her to get rehydrated. By 1 p.m., we were pushing pedialite as blood test results came back saying she was severely dehydrated (duh). More and more liquid went in and she looked better and better. Popcicles went in and stayed put. Color returned to her cheeks, though she was still a total limp noodle.
So we got to go home, and she slept and slept and slept. I woke every couple hours through the night to give her a dose of pedialite. By morning, she was still tired, but better - talking, complaining about who had what hat, etc. She slept most of this morning after we got back from dropping Liam off, and woke chattering. Now, she has just polished off a plate of food. I'm sure diapers will follow, but at least it is going in.
It never ceases to amaze me how these experiences remind me how deep my soul is connected to these little people I sponsor. When they hurt, I literally hurt. When they cry, my body cannot help but move to them. It is a force greater than me and I am forever grateful to be a part of it. And grateful, so, so grateful, to see their faces return to the natural state of joy with the world.